Gandalf sat in the corner watching as Elrond sat next to Bilbo and placed his fingers upon the pulse at the old hobbit's wrist, then taking from his robes a small vial. Bilbo obediently opened his mouth for three drops of the elixir. He swallowed and sighed, looking up at his Elven friend he said, "Gandalf shouldn't have bothered you with my small trouble." 

Elrond shook his head. "It is never a bother to attend to you, my old friend. I am very glad that Mithrandir summoned me when you had such a turn."

"I'm old, Elrond. Gandalf knows exactly how old, even if I don't. It's no surprise that I have a turn once in a while. It's going to be time soon, to let go and move on."

"You are ready to accept the Gift of Ilúvatar?" Elrond felt his own heart constrict at the thought of losing this dear friend.

"Once I told Gandalf that I felt like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. But now I feel like the bread, rather than the butter, if you see what I mean." 

Gandalf chuckled, and Elrond patted the hobbit's hand fondly. "What holds you back, mellon nin? I know you better than to think it is fear of what awaits you."

"No, I don't fear what's to be. But I dread abandoning my lad once more. I did that once before, and hurt him far more than I intended."

Gandalf rose and went over to him. "Frodo has grown far wiser and stronger than the youth you left in charge of Bag End." 

Bilbo nodded. "Yes, he is. I will talk to him" His eyelids drooped as he drifted into slumber.

Elrond's eyes filled. "Not yet, but very soon." 

"We shall mourn him," Gandalf whispered.